


Behave Yourself While I’m Gone

by SolarPoweredFlashlight



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Consensual Kink, F/F, Impact Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16831813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarPoweredFlashlight/pseuds/SolarPoweredFlashlight
Summary: Caitlyn is back from a week long business trip and Vi hasn't been allowed to indulge herself the entire time - which only makes it harder to be good and obey when finally Caitlyn is back within her reach. But that's okay - the punishment is almost as fun as the reward.





	Behave Yourself While I’m Gone

“Been a while, hasn’t it love?”

Vi gasps, straightening her back, scrunching her eyes shut.

“Yes ma’am,” she says.

Caitlyn’s right hand plays with the hem of Vi’s shirt, stroking across her abdomen. Her left comes up to Vi’s neck, holding her firmly beneath the jaw.

She presses herself against Vi’s back. Her hand inches up Vi’s shirt, and god, Vi just wants to spin around and kiss her, but she doesn’t dare.

“Did you miss me, dear?” Cait breathes against her ear, teeth and tongue and heat and hunger.

“Yes ma’am,” Vi exhales, trying not to writhe in her lover’s grasp, trying to be still as those wandering fingers work their way under the bottom wire of her bra cup.

“Did you behave yourself while I was gone, love?”

“Yes ma’am.” God, and what torture it was. A week straight of sleeping on her front with her hands under her pillow to keep them from drifting south, from disobeying the order Caitlyn left her with to keep her company.

Cait’s hand finds a nipple, and fuck, fuck that’s all it takes, she’s so tightly wound, so desperate, she’s squirming, keening. Pain blossoms across her body as Caitlyn’s fingers clamp down hard.

“Stay still, love,” she murmurs, ruthlessly calm, coldly amused. Fuck, she makes Vi so wet.

Vi whimpers, frowns, tries to hold her position. Hand on her neck, hand on her tit, fire between her legs. Stay still, stay still, be good.

“Better,” Caitlyn says, releasing the pressure and stroking gently, lovingly, cruelly. “But you still just earned yourself ten strikes.”

Vi whimpers again, the noise overflowing from the flood of arousal already filling her to the peak.

“Poor dear,” Caitlyn coos, kissing behind her ear, down her neck. Vi’s breathing hard, but then, she’s been breathing hard for a while now. “You must be so horny. Shall I find out just how horny you are for me?” The hand up her shirt slithers smoothly down along her skin, finding her pants, working under them.

Vi is shaking.

Caitlyn pauses.

Evil. Evil, she’s evil!

“Having trouble standing, are you dear?”

Vi mouths empty words, not sure what to say.

“Can’t have you struggling to support yourself. Over the edge of the bed, love, face down and ass in the air.”

She releases Vi, and Vi all but throws herself at the mattress. Obey, obey, be good, be good and she’ll touch me.

It feels so good just to have her here, to lose herself in Caitlyn’s voice, to have something to surrender to.

“Hands up,” Caitlyn orders, and Vi holds them up above her head quickly. All she can do is breathe hard into the sheets and keep still while Caitlyn walks across the room and goes rummaging through the drawer. It seems like an eternity. Vi takes the time to try to pull herself back together again, but all she can think about is how much she wants to be touched, to come, to kiss her lover after this whole miserable week of endless sex dreams and prohibition on touching herself.

Caitlyn climbs onto the bed and perches herself to the side so that she can set Vi’s wrists into the leather cuffs one by one – the ones with the full leather mitts that make it so that Vi can’t even use her fingers, can’t even undo her own restraints. The sensation of being increasingly fucked by how trapped she is sets that heat in her groin roaring ever stronger.

A metal clip connects her wrists together, and then Cait reaches under the bed and finds the strap there, which she attaches the clip to, stretching Vi’s limbs out.

Then she rolls off the bed again, stands, and cracks Vi hard on the ass with a single playful slap that makes her jerk forward and groan into the bed.

“You’re just incredibly frustrated, aren’t you?”

Vi nods wordlessly into the sheets.

Another strike, this one harder and more businesslike, comes suddenly. Vi flinches.

“Answer me properly when I ask you something, love.”

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am,” Vi blurts, her toes curling.

“Good girl,” Caitlyn says, and with those two words Vi is riding high on the crest of this glorious wave of eager feelings. A hit of her favourite drug. “But you just earned yourself another ten.” Her reaction is a twisted medley of oh fuck and fuck yes.

“Now,” says Caitlyn, “Let’s see how much you’ve missed me, shall we?”

And then her legs are up against Vi’s, her hands are on Vi’s hips, her fingers are unbuckling the belt, unzipping the fly. “Hips up,” she commands, and Vi is quick to obey. She pulls the pants and the underwear free, tugging them down Vi’s legs, working her feet free one at a time, and then they’re off somewhere else and Vi is exposed, so exposed, so horny.

Caitlyn moves away and chuckles. Vi feels a hand stroke down the curve where her ass becomes her thigh and shudders involuntarily.

“There aren’t enough words for the ways a woman can be beautiful,” Caitlyn muses, stroking up and down the spot she’s chosen. Vi keeps her face pressed into the mattress, offering no comment. Be good, be good, hold still. “There isn’t a good word for the long, needy line of wetness dripping from your lover when she’s desperately waiting for you to fuck her for the first time after a while apart.”

Touch me, touch me, please just touch me, is all Vi can think.

“Gorgeous,” Cait says.

Vi is tensed, coiled tightly, wound up and on the verge of snapping.

“Relax love,” says Caitlyn, “you’ll earn what you’re waiting for soon enough. But first you have to take twenty strikes for me, don’t you dear?”

It takes a few seconds for Vi to realize that was a question she’s expected to answer.

“Yes ma’am,” she splutters quickly.

“Good girl,” Caitlyn whispers in the same moment that she draws the length of her finger against Vi’s slick clit like a bow drawing a high note of pure bliss across the strings of her core.

“Hn-!” Vi keens, spasming against the restraints. It’s been so long, so long, it feels so intense already.

It’s over too soon, and then she’s cold and untouched and already a sweaty mess.

This is incredible. She had no idea being forbidden from masturbating for a week would make everything feel so overwhelming. She didn’t know it could get much more awesome than it already was.

“Spread your legs,” Caitlyn snaps.

“Yes ma’am,” Vi says, spreading her legs uncertainly, calluses on carpet, finding balance while obeying the order.

“Twenty for misbehaving tonight,” Caitlyn says, and that doesn’t sound too bad – Vi can take that and then hopefully Cait will – “and another twenty, just because I feel like it.” Oh. Oh. Fuck.

The shock of it sends another rush of heat to her groin and she inhales hard.

The long, cool leather strands of the flogger rustle softly against the back of her thigh and she squares her shoulders against the incoming strike.

Caitlyn waits, drifting the tails up and down and across Vi’s lower back and ass and legs. It feels weirdly nice.

She does it just long enough to take the edge off of Vi’s anticipation, to trick her into relaxing, and then –

CRACK.

“Hah-!” Vi gasps, and –

CRACK! CRACK!

She’s keening, whimpering, moaning, and so, so, so wet. The insides of her thighs feel like they must be coated with proof of how badly she’s getting off on this.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

God, it hurts, it stings, it hurts. Caitlyn is being absolutely ruthless tonight.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

A pause.

A hand on her warmed flesh, smooth and gentle, rubbing.

“That was ten. How are you feeling, love?”

“Fine, ma’am,” she wheezes.

Caitlyn leans in over the bed, runs her fingers through Vi’s hair, and then kisses her cheek. Vi flops her head to the side to turn a dopey, glazed smile on her. Caitlyn smiles back, momentarily all adoring softness, and leans in to kiss Vi full on the lips.

It fills her with a warmth more gentle than the burn of desire.

Then Cait pulls away, stands up again, puts a stabilizing hand on Vi’s lower back.

Hooboy, okay, thirty more.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Be good, gotta take it for her, be good and take it.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

God, it hurts. God, she’s horny.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

She tugs a little at the wrist restraints and the reassuring strength of them adds to the thrill of submitting to Caitlyn’s brutal punishment. There’s no getting away, and that’s exactly the way Vi likes it.

CRACK! CRACK!

Vi yelps and twists away from the flogger. Holy fucking fuck those last two hurt!

Behind her, Caitlyn chuckles and pauses. She strokes a burning cheek and then she’s gone again. Vi presses her forehead against the bed. She can hear Cait walking across the room, and then the sound of jangling metal accompanies her back over to the bed.

Leather wraps around her naked ankle, coming tight, tighter, closed, clasped, inescapable.

Then the other.

Then Cait attaches something to the left ankle, moves it to the right, and presses her legs apart.

Spreader bar. It’s the spreader bar.

Fuck, oh fuuuuuck, god dammit, fuck, she’s so horny.

“Like the bar, don’t you love?” Caitlyn asks, and Vi is about to diligently answer with a yes ma’am when holy fuck there’s her hand on her clit again and holy fuck she’s twisting against her restraints and she can’t close her legs and she can’t use her arms and oh god it feels so good, feels so incredible, fuck please don’t stop oh god –

Cait pulls away again and Vi makes the most pathetic noise she’s ever heard come out of her own throat.

“Twenty more,” She says, laughter in the wickedness of her words. She trails the tips of the flogger’s tails slowly down Vi’s back, over the clothes she never got around to removing from her top half, and then strikes down on her bare thighs again.

Vi loses herself in the rhythm of the pain and the impact and the throb of her crotch.

She starts to feel herself detach from her body, riding the sensations and floating on them, disembodied but somehow listed by the power of her body’s sensations. She surrenders to it, surrenders to Caitlyn, surrenders to existing as nothing but the passive receptor of experiences and feelings.

A shudder takes her whole body and there, suddenly, like a crash of waves, there’s Caitlyn’s hand on her again, and this time it doesn’t stop, it doesn’t tease, it pushes her up, up, up, furious and in charge and ruthless in spite of Vi’s squirming, because now she’s let go of everything her body is in charge and she does nothing to stop the impulse to struggle – struggling purely for the pleasure of knowing it will get her nowhere, purely for the visceral fear-thrill of coming up against unbreakable restraints.

The hand between her legs never stopping, just pushing her hard and fast and up and over and fuck, holy fuck –

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck,” she’s saying out loud, a mantra, a blur, a babble, and overflow of the shaking intensity roaring at full tilt along her nerve endings, starting with those in her groin, and –

Over, through, trembling becomes manic, becomes wild, and she flails, and everything is nothing and everything and good and holy fuck, holy fuck, holy, holy fuck –

It ends but lingers, and Vi deflates and clings to the bed, floating again but now in a new way, limp and lifeless and beyond some barrier within herself.

Caitlyn removes Vi’s restraints, one by one, efficient and purposeful, and then climbs into bed behind her. Vi clings to her, and Caitlyn runs her fingers through Vi’s hair.

“How do you feel, love?” Caitlyn asks.

“Mhmmmm,” Vi responds groggily.

“Good?”

“Mmmm.”

“You were such a good girl for me.”

Vi tightens into a smaller ball, smiling distantly.

“Just lie here and enjoy it, love.”

“Mmm. Kay.”

Caitlyn strokes Vi’s hair while she recovers, floating gently, a mote of dust on a windsurfing leaf on a hot, lazy autumn day.

“Was that good?” Caitlyn asks, when Vi seems slightly more capable of constructing sentences.

“Yeah,” Vi enthuses, drawing the word out and filling it with love.

“Are we done for the night?”

“No,” Vi grins, clinging tighter to Caitlyn, “fuck no.”


End file.
